


Chaos Rising

by Di0nysus



Series: Teen Wolf: Vampire Stiles [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, More tags to be added, Vampire Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:28:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26716042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Di0nysus/pseuds/Di0nysus
Summary: An accident leads to Stiles becoming a vampire.
Series: Teen Wolf: Vampire Stiles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1944259
Kudos: 25





	Chaos Rising

Stiles, as much as he joked about his disadvantages as a human, never wanted to be anything else. He enjoyed his humanity; his colds in winter and back ache from sitting in front of the laptop for hours. He enjoyed what control he had over his emotions, the ability to feel fear or anger without the threat of homicidal rage overtaking, without the need to hide himself. 

Stiles didn't see Scott, or Erica, or Boyd, or Isaac differently after they became werewolves. In fact, he lived vicariously through them; watching from afar as they trained in the loft with Derek, gaining control and building resilience. What tied him most to his humanity as well was that his disadvantages did not prevent him from fighting along side them. A steel baseball bat and sharp tongue where his weapons and he used them well. Feeling like a hero didn't require super strength or speed. 

However, his disadvantages also meant he was vulnerable and unsuspecting. Scott knew when they'd passed over the threshold of Heather's house that there was something supernatural around. There was a smell - like how an empty church smelled; musty but clear, cool, something varnished? A text from Allison dismissed his thoughts. Stiles, on the other hand, could not smell anything to the same degree. The room smelled like beer and pizza, pungent aftershave and pot. And Heather? Well, she smelled amazing. Some Dior scent she'd gotten from Danielle that was sweet and floral. He was hooked. 

Stiles followed her down to the wine cellar. He was jittery, excited at the prospect of sex and so damn relieved that his dad had awkwardly passed him a couple of condoms on his way out. It was dark and cold, smelled musty like it hadn't been aired out in some time. Pressed up against the shelving unit, the two kissed and ground and groped, eager to feel each other. Heather pulled his shirt up, hands sliding under the fabric to grope his sides, chest, and then shoulders. 

"You sure you want to here?" Stiles asked, pulling his shirt up over his head. 

"Duh - sit here -" Heather grinned, patting a stool. Stiles moved almost feverishly, unbuttoning his jeans as he went. As he was sat, she placed her hands on his shoulders again, thumb tracing his neck over his pulse point. She giggled. "Your heart's going crazy."

"I'm excited - I mean - it's my first time -" Stiles stuttered, heel of his hand pressing down onto his boxers. He watched her slip out of her dress and kick it to the side. 

"Mine too." Heather sniffed, almost intoxicated by his smell, and smiled cheekily. "Well, first feeding."

"Feeding?" Stiles frowned, pulling her onto his lap by the hips. She distracted him with another deep kiss, hands coming up to tug his hair and run her nails down his neck. She pulled back and grinned toothily, white almost glowing in the darkness. His eyes flashed downwards, breath caught as he caught sight of her elongated incisors. "Oh, God -"

"Don't!" She hissed, hands coming to grasp his neck. "Don't say that -" Stiles gasped against her grip, turning red. He pushed against her, but she tightened her thighs around his hips. Her stare hardened, pupils melting into the whites of her eyes. The grip on his neck slackened, moving to grip his shoulders. 

Too quick to comprehend, Heather's teeth where sunk into his neck. It burned. It burned like pouring alcohol into a cut. Stiles' body convulsed, sinews in his neck and shoulder tightening and rippling under his skin. He grabbed onto her, fingers digging into exposed flesh. It felt like hours and by the time she had let go he was hardly conscious. His body had broken out into a cold sweat, gleaming dully against his greying skin. 

Stiles was coming in and out of consciousness when he heard someone ask "What have you done?". The question likely not directed at him, he'd decided. There was movement in the shadows, noise, music; his eyes were only half open. He realized then, he was being shaken. "He's dying." Said the same voice. 

Stiles woke up with a start. It hasn't gradual or comfortable; he opened his eyes and was fully lucid. He was laid down on the floor of the wine cellar and wrapped in a weighted blanket. From the ceiling, he could tell it was morning by the gold hue cast upon it. He also knew he wasn't alone, by the pacing shadow which crossed over it. He tried sitting up. 

"You're awake!" Heather cried, plopping down onto the floor next to him. She leaned over his face, grinning. "I told you he'd be fine, Dani!" 

"Barely." Dani - Danielle - replied dully. She stood by his head, leaning over. "You're best to stay still for now, Stiles."

"Wh-What happened?" He asked, voice hoarse. He smacked his lips, running his tongue over them and found them jagged and chapped. Heather has the decency to look guilty. She moved to help him up to a sitting position, propping him up against the wine shelf. 

"Well, you see - uh - do you remember much from last night?" She asked, wincing. The look in his eye seemed to answer her question. "Well, I'm a vampire - born one - and it was my coming of age - and, uh, traditionally it's when you're supposed to hunt for yourself for the first time? I got a bit carried away - I forgot humans can only life without like, one pint of blood? You taste amazing, by the way, defo ten-out-of-ten - I, well, kinda went too far with you. And to save your life we had to change you." 

What she said did not settle in Stiles. He sat there, fists clenching at his sides, breathing slowly. His lack of response caused the girls to look at each other in concern, silently communicating between them. Danielle moved to grab a bottle of wine from the shelf, briefly checking the label. 

"Here, this'll be easy to stomach -" She popped off the cork and sniffed, then poured into a mug. Heather grasped it quickly, taking a sip, and then held it under Stiles' nose. He had been parched, his lips chapped and throat becoming scratchy. He opened his mouth and greedily gulped down the wine. The wine - he hadn't tasted something like this before - it was - Oh, fuck. He jolted from the shock of realizing just what this liquid was and spat his mouthful out. Scarlet painted itself down his front and down the blanket and tiled floor. Stiles struggled, flailing to get away from Heather and the mug. He then realized that it wasn't a weighted blanket, but a blanket with shimmering silver buttons - Oh, God - The panic set in quickly. Danielle moved too quickly, taking the mug from Heather and gripping Stiles by the hair. He was yanked back, head thumping against the shelf as he struggled. The blood was poured down his throat forcefully. He gargled, bubbling erupting from his throat. 

"Stiles." Danielle said firmly. The mug was empty but her grip on his hair remained. "You need to cooperate here. You've drank enough to do you three days, hear me?" She shook him until he nodded. "We're going to release you, now that you've fed. When we do, go to the upstairs bathroom and take a shower." She spoke slowly. Her stare was piercing. "We'll continue the conversation afterwards, okay?" 

Stiles kept still as he was unwrapped from the blanket. Once released, he was hauled up and guided by Heather to her en suite. He was left, shirtless and bloody, as the water ran. Some minute part of him was relieved to see his reflection, no matter how horrific. He was grey with blue hues under his eyes and around his lips. His eyes weren't any different from before, just duller and the whites tinged with yellow. The bite mark was healed already, scarred silver. 

Standing in the bathroom, Stiles inhaled slowly. Breathing was, well, different; he felt the push and pull of his lungs in his chest, the steady movement which ultimately was pointless. He also didn't realize how aware of his heart he had been when it still beat. There was a stillness to his body he couldn't understand. He recalled Scott and what he'd said about his change - the waking up covered in blood in the middle of the forest, uncontrollable rage - oh, he was going to kill someone for sure. Stiles licked his lips, moved his tongue to run them over his teeth; the incisors were sharper than before, a little longer maybe? He'd never really noticed. 

Stiles' phone was sat on the toilet lid. There were two texts from his dad asking where he was, which he responded to. Nothing from Scott. Showering was a tedious mess. The bath was stained with red as he scrubbed obsessively over himself. He used half a bottle of body wash and two loofas which were unusable now. He stood under the spray with his eyes shut and enjoyed the heat. Focusing on anything but his current situation, he began hearing things; the clink of porcelain, murmur of voices. Then, of a car running, driving, laughter of children - he opened his eyes and gasped. Super hearing. Huh. 

Stiles dressed quickly in Heather's brother's clothes, simple too-large hoodie and grey sweatpants and thick Nike socks that barely clung to his calves. He made his way down to the sitting room. The girls were already waiting silently waiting for him. Stiles stood at the door until he was beckoned in, and sat at the edge of the sofa, hands coming to grip the plush fabric. "So," Danielle began with a sigh. "This isn't ideal." 

Stiles fidgeted, and asked hesitantly, "What happens now?"

Danielle glanced at Heather. "We'll need to call your parents and see how they want to deal with this. For you Stiles, it'll mean we need to train you to control yourself and your cravings. You'll need to come here for feeding too." 

"What even was your plan?!" Stiles snapped, teeth bore and eyes sinking into blackness. The three of them were startled by his outburst. The rage left as quickly as it came. After a beat of silence, Danielle spoke. 

"This wasn't intentional, Stiles, you need to understand this." She said. "Heather was just going to feed on you. A couple of pints would've done it, but -"

"I lost control." Heather interrupted, shoulders slumping. "I would've made you forget everything. Put the notion in your head, like, we had the best first time but we were so wasted you forgot. I lost control and drained you almost completely. I'm sorry, okay?"

They fell silent. Seconds ticked away on the clock above the mantel piece. Stiles could hear everything at once; the clock, the drip of a tap, the scrape of Heather picking at her nail. He inhaled, eyes dropping shut. When he opened his eyes again, Heather was holding him in a scrutinizing glare. "You don't seem all that shocked about the vampirism thing." 

"I - uh, know about the supernatural." Stiles responded numbly. His eyes kept to the rug under his feet. He wiggled his toes, finding comfort in the pillowy affect. "I've known for a while - I just never knew you were a vampire. Or that there were any in Beacon Hills." 

"It's just us." Heather shrugged. "Me, Dani, mum and dad - uh, my brother, his girlfriend - my aunt who visits from out of town -" 

"Were you, uh -" Stiles gestured vaguely, looking up at Danielle. "An accident as well? "

Danielle let out a surprised laugh. "No, no - Amanda, Heather's mum, she offered me the bite a while ago when I was diagnosed with terminal cancer." 

"How long ago?" he let out a choked sound - he's going to be twenty forever -

"About ten years ago. But don't worry, you age still." She leaned forward. There was a soft look in her eye. "You'll age very very slowly, but you'll age. Vampires aren't immortal, just have very long lifespans." 

Stiles nodded slowly, slumping back against the sofa. His arms were numb from the anxiety and his stomach churned. He thought back to that night with Peter, how he'd eagerly offered him the bite. Stiles remembered how he felt; he rarely went against his gut instinct, and something inside him was telling him that becoming a werewolf was a very, very bad idea. Now, sitting in Heather's living room as a newborn vampire he just felt embarrassed. 

"You said you know about the supernatural." Danielle said. "How? and does your dad know?" 

He hesitated to answer, opting to be as vague as possible. "I know werewolves. My dad doesn't know." 

Heather scoffed. "McCall. Hale too, yeah?"

Danielle rolled her eyes. "Everyone supernatural or hunter knows the Hales are werewolves. Or what's left of them."

"Derek Hale, yeah - we've had a few run-ins." Stiles gritted his teeth. "Just - just don't say anything to Scott, okay? It isn't my place to out him like that." 

"It's fine," Danielle said. "I could smell it on him. You should advise him on masking his scent in future."

"Speaking of," Heather stood and walked over to the mantel piece. She picked up a bottle and handed it to Stiles. "This is rosewater. It's to mask your scent, since you're best friends with a werewolf. Though it won't help with the no-heartbeat-situation." 

"To be clear," Danielle began, "We work somewhat like a werewolf pack does. You've been sired by Heather, which means you're now apart of the family. But you're free to leave and live alone, if you so wish."

"Who's the alpha?" Stiles asked. He turned the bottle in his hand. It was a re-purposed jam jar which had been scrubbed down to the glass. It was fill of a clear and oily liquid with rose buds floating in it. He could smell it through the thin metal fasten. 

"We work by eldest matriarch. Amber is our Sire, or alpha, if you prefer. She's currently out of town until next week, so we'll keep an eye on you until they're back." She explained. "You should understand that whilst Amanda had an agreement with Talia Hale, we don't with Derek Hale. We can co-exist but for safety's sake we'll need to strike treaty of some sorts." 

"Just like, to do with territory and hunter-protocol," Heather added helpfully.

Stiles wasn't listening. Instead, he played with the bottle in his hands. "Can I go home? Will I be a danger to my dad?" 

"You'll be a danger if you're hungry. You're new to this, so you'll have a lack of control over your abilities. You have the standard perks; strength, agility, increased healing speed, but also some extra perks like emotion control and projection, saliva sedative -"

"What the fuck -" Stiles choked. 

"Things you'll be trained to control." Danielle sighed. "It'll be an adjustment, but you'll be fine." 

"I never wanted this." Stiles said honestly. There was a pit in his stomach which was growing.

"I know," Heather said with a small, sad smile. "But the bite is a gift. You'll eventually come to love it."

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there!  
> Just a couple background notes on this fic; one is that the main characters are aged up to 20-21 with Derek as an exception who is still 25ish. Beacon Hills High is changed to Beacon Hills College.  
> Happy reading!


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